Uncharted
by whiterobes17
Summary: Dean's a little run down. Road life is getting to him. Maybe excitement is just around the corner...My first fic ever. Just wanted to try writing something. Please give it a shot!
1. Chapter 1

Hello! I'm shitty with introductions so I'll just say what I'm gonna say. I'll be honest, this is my first attempt to write anything, and I finally worked up the nerve to do it; I just really wanted to try. This is a bit of a practice run for me, and I'd definitely love and appreciate any kind of feedback (constructive criticism in particular so I can understand what I need to try and improve on). Thanks so much for reading, and I hope you enjoy!

Update: I'm a stickler for accuracy, so there've been some corrections. ^_^, Sorry for the overly long note!

~~~

Light drops of rain patter the windshield and roof of the impala, speckling the sleekly curved glass, leaving tiny meandering trails of rain at the periphery.

In the dim light from the night outside, Dean lets his eyelids droop slightly, watching the discoloration and shape of each droplet change as another falls to conjoin with it. He sighs, listening to the gentle rhythmic sounds of the rain against his baby.

He finds peace here, despite his taste in music. It wasn't normally his thing, but he didn't want to disturb the tranquility created here by blasting any particular genre. It had become a routine after a long drive to another shitty motel.

Maybe all the crap Sam spewed about therapeutic 'sounds of the forest', as lame as it sounded, wasn't so far off the mark, especially in their line of work.

Sam had gone in to the sleazy excuse of a motel a few minutes prior, mumbling something about showering. Dean hadn't exactly been exuberant after the drive, and had simply nodded in acknowledgment. He'd wait in the car until Sam had finished. It was just easier and more comfortable for him that way than to attempt to find a satisfying position on the guaranteed squalid smelling mattress. Not like they hadn't slept in the car before.

At some point, Dean must have dozed after habitually turning the engine off, his head uncharacteristically filled with a feeling of warmth and cotton. It felt like slight inebriation, only no sour, pungent miasma of the toxin.

"Dean."

"Guh…wha…?" Dean starts, as his head gently jerks from its awkward position. He'd recognized the voice, figuring it to be Sam graciously reminding him that he'd fallen asleep, drooling like an idiot, and that the shower was available.

Dean opens his eyes, gazing around, expecting some sort of breeze, or fluctuation in the stagnant air from the car door being opened. There was none. Just Castiel.

Seated in the passenger seat, staring out at the row of doors leading into different motel suites, as if he had always meant to be there, a little twinge of anger sparked inside Dean. It might have partially been because the angel had an annoying way of unnerving and surprising him with his sudden appearance_ all the damn time_, and because Dean couldn't help but feel repugnant at the angel's presumed presumptuous nature of taking his brother's spot.

"Dude!" Dean punctuates the word by slamming his palm against the steering wheel. "Don't friggin' do that. Jeez…"

Castiel looks down into his lap, the expression on his face seemingly untroubled by his obtrusive entrance or Dean's tone. Dean still interprets the gesture as a reactionary Cas-mechanism to instill guilt at the somewhat harsh tone. He relents. Even he has to admit that it had been a delayed reaction. He stifles his misplaced hostility.

Dean sighs again, softening his expression, momentarily shutting his eyes. He cants his head to gaze at the angel.

"How long you been there?" he questions, raising an eyebrow.

"My apologies. I didn't mean to disturb you. I arrived a short time after Sam left," Cas answers. There's a pause, expectancy lit up all over Dean's face. "I was concerned for your well being. You seem a bit…'run down', if that is the correct term."

The other eyebrow quirks up.

"Well, that's awfully considerate," Dean drawls, somewhat sarcastically. He removes his palm from the steering wheel, and briskly takes hold of Cas's shoulder, giving it a firm jostle. He notes that it's almost as hard to move Cas's shoulder than it is to move a damned tree trunk. _Friggin' angels_.

Castiel impassively stares down at the rough hand on his shoulder. His vessel begins to feel warm and slightly tingly. He decides he likes the warmth the hunter's hand provides and instinctively shifts his shoulder under the dress shirt and unkempt trench coat to nestle closer into the touch.

"I am glad you are in good spirits. I hope the same is true for Sam," Cas intones, with a slight upturn of his lip.

It could be considered a smile. A Cas smile, Dean thinks. He smiles to himself, removing his hand.

"Yeah, well, it ain't easy. Thanks Cas." Dean sits forward, stretching his arms and torso as much as the cramped space in the car provides. He is content with knowing someone other than Sam has got his back. Something powerful and reliable. Someone special.

He leans back into his seat and ponders when Cas got like this; when he first arrived from Heaven, he'd had such a stick up his ass. He'd only been interested in the brothers' fates and had been loyal and dutiful to Heaven. A good little angel. Now he seemed genuinely concerned about them. About Dean.

Probably the old Winchester charm.

Dean is pulled from his thoughts when Cas mimics the gesture. There's a firm hand on his shoulder. Not _the_ shoulder, but it's still a significant gesture for the socially retarded angel. He glances over to Castiel again, that same warm and cottony feeling ignites in his head and chest again. The warping is one thing, Dean thinks, but when he's fixed by the steely blue eyes and the firm grip he's currently under, it isn't only unnerving. It's…something else. It's definitely unnerving, though. It's a consistent strength he admires, and maybe something more.

Dean suddenly feels a little more than uncomfortable. More than he'll ever admit. There's only so much bravado testosterone can produce. His lips part to take in more air. Apparently, his nose can't fulfill the task alone anymore.

Not missing any details of Dean's flustered composure, Castiel's pensive eyes break the otherworldly staring contest, only to traverse Dean's facial features like a map until they reach Dean's parted lips. It's Cas's turn to take a breather. The tiniest intake of breath is audible between Cas's lips. There's no key or compass for what he's feeling. It's an uncharted area for Cas.

"I should uh…" Dean articulates expertly, while his eyes unintentionally rove Cas's seated figure. He tells himself that he's pretty fucking sure there are a lot of things to distractedly look at in the car, and that Cas shouldn't be one of them.

He clears his throat.

"I should go." Dean states, voice inclining at the end as if he'd just remembered what he was supposed to say.

"Yes. Of course." There is no awkwardness in Castiel's voice. Dean wishes there was so he isn't the only one who feels like a granola bar.

Sam's probably asleep by now anyway. There's no real urgency to go into the motel just yet, but he feels if he stays here any longer with Cas, very wrong things might happen.

_Or maybe very right things._

Dean banishes the thought immediately. Damn Cas. Damn the considerate, reasonably attractive angel…attractive? It's only a fact, he tells himself. He's just never thought of it like that before.

"Dean?" Castiel's head is tilted just slightly, as if he's going to ask what just conspired between them. Dean kind of wants to know, too.

"Yeah?"

"I will try to persuade my superiors so that I may assist you when need be. I feel it is necessary. I feel that we can both benefit from each other. Sam as well."

_I feel all hot and bothered, and I really wish you'd stop saying 'I feel'_.

"Yeah. Sounds good," Dean mumbles. Dean can think of a few ways Cas can benefit from him…the angel has already changed so much just by being around the brothers for such a short amount of time. It's definitely a good thing, he agrees.

He kind of wishes that Cas would've pursued the earlier situation.

The rain is more persistent. It's not quite as peaceful as before for a multitude of reasons, most of which include Cas.

Dean can feel those powerful electric blue irises on him again. He forces himself to look out of the windshield, even though he knows the alluring azure is more pleasurable to look at than a bunch of cruddy doors, one of which houses Sam. His hand grips the handle of the door. He turns his head to Cas.

"Later, Cas."

Castiel nods once in response.

He hurries with the too familiar motions of closing the door of the impala, and dashes over to the room he knows they've rented, fumbling with the knob.

He takes a quick glance back to the passenger seat of the car, not too surprised that Cas is gone. He feels a bit of relief being released from those eyes, from Cas's presence in general.

He also feels a scintilla of disappointment. 


	2. Chapter 2

Back again! Should I bother with disclaimer? I don't know why this took me so long to write... It's not like I'm working on anything else. I only just got started! The story's starting to feel really slow to me now. I didn't like this chapter very much… Shitty title is shitty. I know. :/ Oh, and rating may change, I guess. Please read and review! I hope you enjoy!

The sun shines through the ratty draperies, spilling light onto the dismally colored mattress. Awareness envelops Dean, though he remains still. He suspiciously flicks open the eyelid that isn't plastered to the bed, darting the light green hues over as much of his surroundings as he can. He is temporarily blinded by the sunbeam, only allowing ephemeral dust particles to be seen floating lazily in the still atmosphere.

He hears light tapping, Keys. Computer keys. Sam; his mind registers with the only familiarity he knows in the immediate vicinity. He blinks, pulling his hand from its comfortable warm position underneath his leg to rub at the dried tears in the crevice of his eyes.

Dean grunts, noting his morning wood and surreptitiously maneuvering into a divergent position from his brother. Scrubbing his rough fingers over his face and running a hand through his hair, he inhales and exhales deeply.

He hadn't slept well last night, despite the calm the rain had brought.

"Hey," Sam greets weakly, dismissively. It's been like this for a while, ever since Ruby came into the picture like a tempting third wheel, anyway. Dean ignores the thought, pushing to stand to his feet.

"Time is it?" he mumbles.

"Eleven."

Dean hums in acknowledgement. No better job like hunting, if only for the late hours sleeping, he thinks dully.

He shifts uncomfortably in his faded jeans as he stands, strolling to the bathroom to relieve himself. With the door shut, he looks into the mirror, examining his features. He may have felt worn out last night, but it sure as hell wasn't showing too bad. He wonders where Cas saw it in the first place. In his soul, maybe. More mojo chick-flic nonsense that he can't be bothered with.

Dean turns the faucet, gathering water in his palm and splashes his face with it. He debates dealing with the pleasurable inconvenience still evident in his jeans. His thoughts automatically drift to Cas and what had happened in the impala last night. Or rather, what hadn't happened.

Dean frowns into the mirror at the absurd thought, purposely neglecting the heat in his groin. He sucks his teeth.

"You get any coffee?" he hollers to Sam.

"Nah."

The faucet is on again as he cups more water in both hands to rinse his mouth. With a quick ring of his fingers, he turns and heads out to Sam.

"Find anything?"

"Nothin' yet. Not so much as a cat dying." Sam offers with a frown and sympathetically heightened eyebrows.

"Demonic presence?"

"No signs of any sort of electrical storm or supernatural presence. Zip," Sam punctuates the 'p' with a popping sound.

Dean sighs.

"You're cheerful," he declares a little begrudgingly.

"Mm…maybe," he hums distractedly. For a moment, Dean wonders just what exactly he's looking at.

"Let's hit the road then," he half sighs, half states.

Sam doesn't move.

"You okay?"

"Fine, Sammy. Let's just get going. I don't wanna linger."

Dean never thought there'd come a day when he'd loath being stationary in his baby. It's a bad omen, he decides, ruefully.

They're cruising down another generic looking highway that reminds Dean of a cliché TV drama. It irks him to think that this is what their lives have amounted to. His only real concern has been protecting Sam, worrying about Bobby. He considers most hunters would be proud of his and Sam's accomplishments. Dean's never been one to dismiss stroking his own elephant sized ego. Dean's just tired. Maybe even bored.

With the exception of the angels, there's nothing new, nothing extraordinary to seek. No purpose for driving. Just the same old hunting business he's grown to feel apathetic towards.

Dean shifts in his seat as he expertly guides the car down the slowly declining hump of a hill.

He glances in the rearview mirror to-

And then there were three.

"Cas." Dean watches as Sam jerks slightly as he realizes Dean isn't just trying to start a conversation about the wayward angel.

"Cas," Sam reiterates.

"Hello Sam, Dean," Castiel nods in greeting, courteous as ever. Dean abstractly thinks Cas would be great at high-end, fancy dinner parties. Recreationally, of course.

"'Sup?" He goads with a quirk of his eyebrow.

Sam snorts.

Castiel looks upward to the roof of the impala, eyebrows furrowed, as if to ascertain the mysteries of the universe.

Dean shakes his head slightly.

"I meant what's up," he specifies.

Castiel's gaze doesn't waver from the roof.

"I'm trying to find that out, Dean. It seems to be the roof."

Sam snickers.

"Nevermind, Cas. Why're you here?" Dean asks.

"I've come to discuss a matter; one other than last night."

Sam's eyebrows raise in amusement and accusation.

"Shut up, Sam," Dean grunts.

Sam looks at him with a hurt expression, feigning innocence. The psychic, Missouri, pops in his mind.

_You were thinkin' about it!_

"It concerns the felling of angels." Whatever implications there were pass right over his thick angel head.

"Wait, but I thought Chuckles bit the dust," Dean questions, concern lacing his face. Sam gives a sympathetic look at Castiel through the rearview mirror. They both know how difficult those shenanigans Uriel pulled were for Cas. They've been learning from experience.

Castiel's eyes are slightly distant, the recollection of his recent endeavors cross his mind.

"It is definitely not the work of angels."

"How can you be sure?" Sam asks. Can't be too careful nowadays.

"Sulfuric residue at each location. We know what is committing these acts, but not why."

Like most things about Cas, the angel's placidity was just as unnerving as any other sub-existent personality feature. Dean scoffs inwardly. He knows better, though. He's seen Cas after the fact, after he killed the disgruntled angel.

Even if Uriel had been misled, Dean hadn't cared. Good riddens to the asshat excuse of an angel. But he'd known that Cas had; it had hurt. Dean couldn't _not_care about at least that, especially since he could relate.

"How can we help?" he blurts before his mind can catch up to his mouth. He chides himself for his momentary lapse of restraint, trying instead to focus on the steady expanse of the road.

"My superiors suggested I make sure that you were not involved." Cas stares at the back of Sam's head.

"'Course not!" Dean defends immediately. "How could you even think that?" Anger evident in his voice.

"We're still aware of Sam's dealings with the demon, Ruby. I have been lenient, but I cannot say the same for Heaven's forces." Castiel's brows furrow with actual concern for the younger Winchester. "The angels are wary of you, Sam," he continues, as if it isn't already obvious.

And Dean understands. He doesn't fucking want to, but he understands. He avoids looking at anyone in the car, Sam in particular. He grips the steering wheel more tightly, jaw clenching. He doesn't like or approve of that demon bitch any more than the next angel. He's told Sam as much. At least, he's tried.

"I'm not involved," Sam manages, as if waiting for Dean to say something. Neither of them know what, though.

"Regardless, I shall accompany you to investigate anything unusual," Cas supplies reassuringly.

"So you can _watch_ me? That's what you mean, right?" Sam turns around with an incredulous, indignant look aimed at Cas.  
>"Sam, I assure you, we only mean to stop the killings of our brethren. I-"<p>

Sam snorts, and turns towards the passenger window, glaring out at the passing electric poles. Dean sees he has a sour look on his face.

"Cas, we'll try and figure out what's goin' on," Dean concludes stiffly.

He can tell this won't be easy. Sam said as much back at the motel. No signs of demonic presence anywhere. It only struck Dean that even that piece of information was unusual. Normally, they'd gank a demon every week.

"Where've they been killed?" Dean asks. There might be a pattern.

"All over the country," Castiel responds, tilting his head in that trademark way. He looks at the back of Dean head, then at his eyes through the rearview mirror. "Why do you ask?"

"Part of the job," he responds huskily. "So are you gonna…I dunno, warp to where we're going? Or just sit there?" Even in Sam's sour mood, Dean doesn't want the angel to go anywhere.

Cas shifts on the leather upholstery, uncertainty crossing his features.

"Dean, I…" he fumbles slightly with his hands, at a loss for words; a rare occurrence for the angel. Dean notices it's been happening more often. Cas glances at Sam. "It is nothing," he says abruptly.

The drive is tiresome as always, but at least Cas doesn't leave.

~~~  
>I really don't know where I'm going with this. Reviews would be much appreciated! Suggestions as well! I'm having a difficult time coming up with a plot… This chapter in particular took much longer than the first.<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

**(I figured I'd do notes in bold) :] First things first. Thank you all so much for you reviews! They mean more than you know, and they let me know that you are enjoying the story. They pep me up so much as well! So anyways, since this is my first fic, I'm not going to press for anything original. You may see some plot devices that have been used **_**many **_**times in the show and in other fics, but just keep in mind that I will try to keep it as engaging as possible! Sorry for the long note, and again, please read and review!**

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><p>"<em>Dean."<em>

Dean almost doesn't hear it. He's in the kitchen of his old Kansas home, sun blazing through the nearest window. He's comfortably seated at the table, devouring a homemade sandwich made with motherly love by none other than Mary Winchester. It's all too familiar for Dean...

"Dean," the raspy voice says again.

Dean stops munching and turns to face the disheveled appearance of Castiel, all dusty trench coat and ruffled, dark brown hair. He lowers the sandwich.

"Cas."

"I am glad you're enjoying yourself," he responds with mild cheer and a knowing look towards the half-eaten sandwich.

Realization hits Dean not too harshly.

He's dreaming...it was like the djinn world that asshole pseudo-genie trapped him in. He's just glad he's not having his blood drained like cow's milk.

"I'm not... unconscious, right...?"

"No. I altered your dreams from...less desirable ones. You were turning and seemed uncomfortable in your seat."

Dean vaguely remembers that they didn't make it too a motel, and slept in the car on the side of the road instead. He can't help but feel that though Cas being in the backseat is reassuring, it's also a little creepy. Like he's watching the brothers sleep. Stalker Cas. He smiles and nods inwardly.

_How is that funny? _he asks himself.

Dean shakes his head, clearing his thoughts, an uncertain expression over his face. "So, what're you doin' here?"

"I came to talk. It didn't seem like the most opportune time when I attempted-"

"Sweety?" A cheerful voice interrupts the angel.

Dean's expression melts into a ruefully pleasant smile.

"What is it?" Mary turns the corner from the next room. "It sounded like you said something," she continues with a frown, indicating that she couldn't quite hear him. She's as beautiful as Dean remembers, all flowing golden locks, sincerity radiating from her like the smell of pie from an oven. Dean blinks, feeling too many things, wanting to stay in this moment.

He knows it's flawed though. The djinn's reality had its imperfections, and even if this was just a dream, he knew this couldn't happen. This couldn't be; wasn't meant to be.

Dean's suddenly aware that the angel is still there, and that his mask of cheekiness has lowered.

He glances from Mary to the angel's direction, confused.

"She cannot see me, Dean," he almost whispers, gruffly.

As much as Dean wants to stay and feel this brief happiness, he knows he can't.

He clears his throat, one of many emotional-breach defense mechanisms, and finally places the sandwich down on the flowery patterned plate. Even if this just a dream, he just can't...

"It's nothin', mom," he grins, shaking his head. He glides over to her and takes her hands in his, squeezing them lightly before embracing her in a reassuring hug. He closes his eyes momentarily, breathing in her essence. He can feel his eyes beginning to moisten, just like last time.

"...Well, okay," she concedes. Dean quickly pulls away, acutely aware of the ever patient angel standing at the other exit of the kitchen. "Is something wrong, Dean?" she asks, concern in her features.

The atmosphere is stifled with emotions. Emotions Dean only wishes he could fully express to his mother.

"Nah. I'm just gonna go outside for a few. Get some fresh air." His smile lies for him.

He turns and finds that Castiel has vanished. He heads for the door, and walks out onto the picturesque porch. Cas is sitting on the clean white steps, hands loosely folded, dangling between his legs. His head is turned away from Dean, directed out across the suburban street.

"You know, I think you _define _subtle. A little warning next time, Cas? Maybe?" he snipes, directing a mocking smile at Cas, even though the angel isn't looking.

"I don't have the luxury for such things, especially with you as my charge, Dean. You know that," Castiel retorts blandly.

Dean sighs, and steps down two stairs to take a seat near Castiel, probably closer than he has to. Cas doesn't seem to notice.

"So what is it? What's so important that you couldn't tell me in front of Sam?"

"I didn't want to risk upsetting or arousing suspicion from your brother."

"Believe me, Sam's only suspicious when he needs to be. That's how we both are. I think you know at least that, Cas."

"Dean..." Castiel relents from staring at the peculiar garden gnome across the street. Dean stares at it, too. If he didn't know better, he'd say it was demonic in nature, and would exorcise the damn thing.

Cas looks down at his hands, struggling for words. It's become a bit of human habit of his, Dean notices.

"What?" Dean presses, staring at Castiel's profile.

"You cannot be so blind. You cannot..._act _so blind, Dean. You know as well as any of the angels what Sam is doing."

Dean shifts, and averts his gaze to a few tulips in Mary's garden. They're lightly colored, but don't help his mood.

Of _course _he knows what Sam is doing. But what could he possibly do to make Sam stop? Sam really believed he was doing the right thing. Dean can almost guarantee that he still believes it.

"I don't know what you want me to do," he admits, defeat darkening his tone.

"I believe it is not my place to tell you what to do about your brother. It is my place to protect you, Dean. And I will," Castiel looks up from his hands and at Dean, almost coaxing the hunter's gaze to his.

Dean is agitated at this point; Cas always needs to do this to him, doesn't he? Make a point with the angel's eyes, his _damn _eyes. As if saying the words aren't enough, he always has to endure that deep blue intensity. _Why? _It irks him to his core. Makes his façade skitter away like a mouse running from a preying cat.

There's just something more than the angel's grace. More to Cas, and Dean...well, Dean can't decide whether he wants to acknowledge it or not; whether he likes it or not.

He reminds himself that he's in his own goddamn dream, and that Cas can't get under his skin here.

_Too late for that_.

He swallows, and manages to vocalize a pathetic 'thanks'.

"I put in good word for Sam," Cas breaks the ice.

"You do?" Dean gives him a surprised look.

"Yes. Though...I believe he is...misguided," Castiel admits. "There is a saying on earth, 'Good intentions pave the road to Hell', correct?"

Dean nods.

"The road to Hell is incorrect, but the meaning to me is actually very profound-"

Dean interrupts with a chuckle, despite the topic.

Castiel tilts his head and looks at Dean with a trademarked furrowed brow and slightly parted lips.

"Sorry man. I mean, when I see an angel looking so contemplative over a proverb...it's just..." He chuckles again, with a larger grin on his face.

Castiel's expression lightens a bit, but he's still staring at Dean.

"I enjoy human philosophy, Dean."

"Yeah! And that's great...!" Dean defends.

Castiel stares as if egging Dean on to explain the pun. Dean's grin falters, as he looks away awkwardly. He scratches the back of his neck with raised eyebrows and a humorous smirk.

"Am I misunderstanding the proverb, Dean?"

"Nah. Forget it." Dean gives Castiel the cheekiest smile he can muster, if only to try and piss the angel off. _Hoo boy, that'd be fun._

The angel stares at his mouth intently. Dean wonders if Cas sees all the mysteries of the universe in his mouth.

_I'd show him all the mysteries of the universe..._

_Tch! What the hell?_

Dean's grin fades. Cas's eyes are on his again, almost expectant. Dean thinks the angel might have read his mind. But even if he did...he wouldn't understand the reference..._would he?_

Dean absentmindedly leans on his palm for better support. A spike of adrenaline runs through his body. He swears his head moves closer to Cas on its own. And _just _to make things worse for Dean-

"As you wish," Cas rumbles, almost growls, lowly. At this point, Dean is pretty damn sure he's imagining that.

Cas flicks his tongue out and licks his parted lips.

Okay, he _knows _he did not fucking imagine that.

They're close enough that Dean can feel puffs of Cas's breath on his own lips.

_Fuck..._

There's a sound. A sound Dean couldn't give a fuck about, because he's so damn close to...to _something _with Cas. It only gets louder and louder, though. He pulls away, and is vaguely aware of a hand on his shoulder. Everything fades away in a hazy mist.

_Fuck!  
><em>  
>Dean jerks awake, knowing where he'd be before he realizes. He gasps a bit, and smacks Sam's hand away from the horn of the impala. He grits his teeth.<p>

"Dude! You were out like a doornail. Been tryin' to wake you up with that thing for 5 minutes!" Sam barks with a grin.

Dean sighs, blinking at the sunlight coming over the hill at the horizon of the road. He glances in the rearview mirror and sure enough...

Cas.

The pouting angel is glaring at nothing through the windshield, expression of annoyance written all over his face. He looks just about ready to smite something.

Dean's almost awestruck. He's never really seen much emotion on Cas's face other than confused or befuddled. Until now, anyway.

Dean likes what he sees.

He turns to face Sam with a frank look on his face.

"You're a dick, you know that?" Dean says. "Bitch."

"Jerk."

Cas sighs in the backseat.

Dean turns the keys to the engine, jerks the stick shift into drive, and turns onto the shimmering horizon.

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><p><strong>8D LOL. Like you didn't know that was gonna happen! Aww man, I just wanna see the look on all of your faces. I can accurately show the look on mine. XD Saw this and just...I had to.<strong>

http:/ media. tumblr. com/tumblr_lxs2jqZJSf1qbm54c. png

**Yeap. Troll Sam is AWESOME Sam. So I also wanted to try switching POV's mid chapter, but my sister didn't recommend it. I wasn't too sure if that's acceptable or if it flowed, and I wasn't sure I'd be good with Cas. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed, and please review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**I'm so sorry for the late update! Pure procrastination on my part. Two words, Bones and FFXIII-2. Such wonderful reviews! I can't begin to thank you enough! I think I'll take advice and maybe avoid plot if I can and just focus on the destiel moments. I enjoyed writing last chapter the most. XD Probably due to Cas's expression/reaction, really. I switched POV's for this. Tell me what you think! I hope you enjoy!**

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><p>All Dean can think about is killing Cas. Killing the feathery bastard, making him bleed. He doesn't know how he'll do it; Cas is stronger, of course. He just knows he has to, or he'll damn well die trying. For <em>him<em>.

The man from the bar...Dean knew the moment they had a drink together, the moment they looked at each other, Kevin was all he ever wanted. It didn't phase Dean that it had been a guy that he wants. That wasn't important.

Dean stares back up at the handsome man with his light brown hair and hazel eyes. Dean feels absolute loyalty to him.

"Dean," Kevin murmurs as he strokes the back of his hand against Dean's cheek. "I'll be your angel from now on. I'll take care of you and protect you. I'll give you what you want; what he can't. You don't need Cas anymore."

Something inside Dean shudders at the way this man says the angel's nickname. It's...just wrong.

"Kill him. For me? And we'll be together, Dean."

Dean nods, closes his eyes and prays for Castiel. He knows the angel is somewhere back in the bar-slash-dance club, standing stock still, with a few escort oglers.

_Cas, I need you._

Dean hears a flutter of clothing behind himself in the cold, wet and dreary alley.

"Dean, have you found anything?" Castiel asks, suspiciously eyeing the man close to Dean. The angel takes a step forward to Dean.

"No, nothin' yet," he answers plainly with his back facing the angel. He turns and walks up to Cas, moving his mouth to whisper into Cas's ear.

"Give me your angel blade. I need to use it on him."

"Dean..."

"Hurry!" Dean hisses. "He's gonna figure out I'm on to him!"

Castiel nods slowly, his eyes warily moving towards the dissipating veil-like façade the hideous siren has created. He discreetly moves his arm in front of himself, using Dean's body as a shield of sorts. He slips the smooth, shiny metal from his coat sleeve, eyes darting back to Dean's.

Dean grits his teeth, jaw clenching expectantly.

Dean elbows Castiel in the jaw, wincing at the pain. The angel's no rookie, nor is he as soft as humans. Dean growls, attempting to snatch the angel blade from its holder's grasp.

Castiel shoves Dean back with one hand, zapping directly in front of him to push the hunter up against the side of the building.

"Dean, you must listen," Castiel pleads, voice low and dangerous.

"Screw you!" Dean snarls. He struggles against the angel's grip. He wants Cas's head on a stick.

"Dean," Kevin calls cheerfully, "Bite off your tongue. If I can't have you, neither will he."

Dean nods, but before he can blissfully oblige, his mouth is stuffed full of angel hand. He bites anyway, and looks into Cas's eyes, hoping to see a flare of pain. Cas stares at the blood dripping from Dean's mouth and down his own palm before speaking.

"Brace yourself," Cas utters.

Dean feels a cold metallic nick against his arm through the sleeve of his suit jacket and shirt. He can feel his blood leak onto the blade before the dagger is withdrawn. He feels himself getting dizzy from being held up so long. Cas releases him from the grip, and the angel is suddenly gone from his field of vision.

Dean slides down to his rear against the side of the grimy building, and frantically looks over to Kevin as Cas sinks the blood soaked blade into the creature's chest.

"No! NO!" Dean yells.

Castiel looks back at Dean as he throws the siren to the ground with little effort, an expression of distaste on his face. He's suddenly gone again, and in front of Dean, healing his bloodied arm.

Dean's breathing heavily, looking at the ground where the siren lay, the feeling of need and loyalty to the damn thing dissolving by the second.

"Ugh...It kissed me...!" Dean sighs. "...Thanks Cas. Again."

Castiel nods and says nothing. His face is tight with...Dean doesn't know what.

"What is it?" he asks.

"I...I felt something when I saw it touching you."

"What?" Dean says, disbelievingly. "How long were you even watching me?"

"Long enough to know that you ingested the siren's toxin when it gave you a drink. I apologize I couldn't recognize it sooner." Castiel continues to help the hunter to his feet. Dean doesn't think he'll pry as to what Cas 'felt'. For now.

"You think you can zap us back to the motel? I got a bone to pick with Mr. Smartass."

"Of course." The angel raises two fingers to Dean's forehead. In the back of his mind, Dean knows he won't poop for a week.

* * *

><p>"You think that was funny? Hm? How 'bout my foot up your ass, Sammy? How's that?"<p>

Sam is laying on the twin mattress with a wide grin on his face, almost in tears.

"It's _not_funny," Dean grits.

"I fail to understand the joke as well, Sam," Castiel adds.

"You don't understand _most_jokes, Cas. Not like this is any different," Dean snorts matter-of-factly.

"Oh man...I just thought you two could use some...y'know, R&R."

"And you think my kind of R&R is a friggin' gay dance club? I got rubbed up by things I don't even wanna _remember_, Sam. Not to mention seduced by the siren."

Sam chuckles even more. Castiel turns from his seat on his twin to stare blankly at the window. He's decided he'll sit this one out.

Dean's brow furrows in anger.

"Screw it," he bites out, stomping off to the bathroom and slamming the door behind him.

Castiel turns his gaze to the closed bathroom door. He can sense Dean through it. He senses Dean staring into the mirror, and observes as the hunter's gaze descends down to examine his erection through worn jeans.

Castiel ceases his sensory analysis. He furrows his eyebrows in contemplation.

He still can't quite understand the feeling of discomfort Dean had about the homosexual club. Was it truly different from his usual escapades with women at other strip clubs?

"Sam?"

Sam's recovered from his fit of happiness to shoot an inquiring look at the angel.

"What is Dean so afraid of?"

"Ah, it's nothing, Cas. I guess those kinds of things make him uncomfortable." Sam shakes his head. "Makes 'em more funny for me, though." He chuckles again.

Castiel looks down at the floor again, pondering just what he felt exactly when that siren touched his charge, kissed his Dean, and why it distracts him from his missions with the Winchesters, his missions from Heaven, even. Or the dream he altered the night before. The angel wonders what else could have happened.

"I will be on the roof," Castiel says abruptly. He ascends in the blink of an eye. He needs space from the two. Space from Dean so he can sort this out. He needs guidance, assistance. His ex-superior comes to mind.

* * *

><p>Despite the feel of the town, the outside is refreshing for the angel. The moon is a hazy crescent sickle in the polluted clouds. He closes his eyes and calms his grace.<p>

Castiel prays.

"Anna."

"Castiel." The response is immediate, and Castiel's eyes fly open. "You've been well. I'm guessing this is more than just trying to jail me?" Anna's voice is genuine.

"You look well," Castiel nods awkwardly. He remembers their last meeting. He didn't much like it.

"What is it, Castiel?" Anna asks curiously. "Pleasantries can't be why you called me here."

"You expected this of me."

"If you're talking about what you're feeling, than yes, I did. Castiel...if you truly have faith in God, and you believe in His plan, than you know this is what is meant to happen," Anna concludes with a frown.

Castiel stares at the ground and then at her, his arms hanging limp and useless at his sides. He searches her with his eyes for some sort of relief, some weight of his shoulders. The weight of free will.

Anna walks up to him, placing a hand on his cheek. He'd be fearful if that were in his design.

Anna stares ruefully into his eyes.

"You're changing because of him. You know this."

"Anna, I don't know what to do. Please...help me?"

She smiles at his bland tone and longing eyes.

"You need to figure this out on your own. It's just like I said last time."

She lowers her hand and turns to walk toward the edge of the low building.

"Anna!"

She looks back at him, and disappears, her grace untraceable.

* * *

><p>He loves humans. He never wavers in that respect. Not for the first time, he feels uncertainty. Before it was just this emotion called <em>curiosity<em>. But now, this hunter, the Righteous Man, so he's heard from Heaven, is making him feel.

Castiel raises his head to the dark sky, trying to understand. He was a strategist in Heaven.

Castiel thinks for a moment.

Maybe he can apply tactics with this new layer of humanity that he's developed. He needs to resolve this anomaly with Dean. Though the anomaly is pleasurable, he needs to focus on his mission and protect Sam and Dean.

Castiel ponders what stakes he should take to advance the situation with the hunter,

The angel contemplates further. Perhaps he needs to study Dean more. He's done plenty of that with all the staring, much to the hunter's discomfort.

Castiel sighs and descends back to a dark room and a gently snoring Dean. He looks to the other absent bed, and turns to sit on Dean's bed. He knows where Sam is.

The angel decides to banish the thought for now, knowing a good opportunity when he sees one. He looks at Dean's sleeping form, left arm tucked under the pillow to support his check, right somewhere beneath the sheets.

_What is it about this human?_

He observes Dean, his face in the pillow and mouth slightly open. His eyes roam over Dean's sculpted face, eyelashes hiding light green eyes. Castiel raises his hand to brush sandy brown hair from the hunter's temple. He let's his fingers linger in the soft spikes. He lifts and moves a hand to place on the hunter's back, but stops, instead looking at the small where the sheets conceal the darkly colored boxers.

Castiel decides he likes looking at Dean. Forget studying.

He examines the exposed patch of skin with his eyes, tilting his head in fascination at the toned muscle that lay underneath. He's just about to move his hand to feel the muscle when the body shifts and turns abruptly; a determined grip on his arm makes him halt.

Castiel quickly turns his head to face Dean. A very much awake Dean. A possibly hostile Dean. Something about the look in the hunter's eyes intrigues Castiel, even more so than the small of the hunter's back. Something along the lines of hunger. The angel can't be sure.

"Dean, I wasn't aware-"

"What're you doing, Cas?" Dean questions with an unreadable tone unreadable. His grip on Castiel's arm doesn't lessen.

"I was..." Castiel actually stammers.

_I've been in fierce battles with demons in the name of Heaven, and I can't tell this hunter what I was doing?_

"I don't know what I was doing," Castiel accurately admits, averting his gaze. He honestly doesn't. Even he knows observing doesn't have to do with physical contact...

"Look at me, Cas," Dean demands. Castiel doesn't recognize the tone. He takes in a breath of air for good measure. Right now, he needs some.

Castiel also decides that Dean flusters him on occasion.

"Dean, I apologize," Castiel offers, instead of his eyes.

_"Look at me."_

Castiel succumbs to the gruff voice and the intent grip on his arm. He feels slight...fear?

Castiel reluctantly lifts his eyes to the hunter's. Dean's expression is unreadable as well. Or maybe it's just Cas.

Castiel gulps, wondering when he's ever felt like he had to do that. He almost sighs in relief when Dean finally lets go of his arm. He withdraws it from Dean's so called 'personal space'.

Castiel turns from Dean and rises from the bed. He hears the mattress behind him squeak and shift. The hunter has risen as well.

He turns to assure Dean of any ill intentions, but finds Dean's forearm pressed against his chest, pushing him back against the wall. He grunts has his head makes impact. It's not painful, but not desired.

Dean's face is in his, breathing hard, and glaring at Castiel. Castiel reconsiders the desire a bit.

He blinks and steadies his breath, despite Dean's intimidating aura and proximity. Dean's eyes are boring into his with some sort of emotion that Castiel understands they're both on the precipice of discovering.

Dean relents, exhaling deeply, and releasing Castiel from the hold. His gaze lingers on Castiel's lips for a few seconds before he turns and heads to the bathroom again.

Castiel remains, flustered, but calm and for some reason, even more frustrated than when Sam had awakened Dean in the car the other day.

He wants whatever just happened to happen again.

* * *

><p><strong>So close, yet so far? Believe me, I wanted to smash 'em together in some sorta smut, but I think I can wait. XD I was afraid I'd develop something too fast. This took a while to write. I hope you enjoyed, and as always, R&amp;R!<strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**Procrastination. There is no excuse. I'm sorry it took so long, and you definitely deserve more. I know I wanted to **_**write **_**more...I was just a little down on enthusiasm for writing, but...well, here it is. A special thanks to Pantharya and Sharona for their awesome and inspiring reviews! I only recently remembered that this was supposed to be humorous as well as romantic, so I took a stab at humor. :D I hope you guys enjoy!**

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><p>Dean sits languidly on the cushions of the windowsill near Bobby's desk, staring blankly out at the snow covered heaps of metal. Though the house is warm, he feels the cold seep in through the window and pulls his button up shirt taut around his torso.<p>

None of it makes any sense to Dean.

The harshness of winter has set in, and it's been a few months since Castiel has been accompanying the Winchesters on hunts. The angel murders are still unsolved, and no new information or deaths have been uncovered since Cas's arrival.

Cas himself has seemed distracted with something other than the killings, pointedly ignoring Dean's presence in general. Dean figures that's kinda hard to do, especially when he's the angel's charge. Whatever it is that's eating Cas, he's keeping it to himself.

_Let him._

Dean feels a bit regretful at the thought, knowing what it's like to worry for brethren, but at the same time irritated at Cas's reluctance; reluctance to _everything._

Mostly, Dean just wants Cas to do something. He contemplates punching Cas in the face, or vice versa, so he'd have a legitimate reason to be annoyed at the angel. It would make dealing with Cas easier.

It wasn't like Cas to keep things from them. Dean thought he had changed...maybe he was wrong. Maybe someone shoved another stick up Cas or something.

The thought of anyone shoving anything up or in any of the angel's orifices doesn't plant well with Dean.

He flexes the muscles in his hand, a reflex he has for guns to see if anything's jammed.

"You just gonna sit there and mope all day, boy?"

Bobby's sensible presence always breaks reverie or any other such thought.

"I'm not moping," Dean pouts a little too childishly.

Bobby rolls his head dramatically, shuffling through numerous books on his desk.

"I'm sorry, _sweetheart_. Get up and get me these ingredients. You haven't been doin' anything of value lately anyway. No hunts and all that," Bobby drawls, waving his hand dismissively at the air. "I don't want the three of you lollin' around here like you own the place."

"Yeah, yeah..." Glad for the task given him, Dean gets up and strides across the room to grab his coat, only to collide into a brick trench coat. "Shit."

Castiel is staring at Bobby, body and facial expressions undisturbed by the collision.

_Enter Cas, scene 1, _Dean thinks.

"Jeez," Dean breathes. "I don't know how many times I've told you not to do that, but it's clearly not working."

"You are going somewhere," Cas states more than asks. He stares at the rug covered floor to the left of him, expertly avoiding looking at Dean.

"Yeah. You comin'?" Dean asks, frowning and stepping closer to Cas to try and encompass the steely gaze.

"I will wait outside." And with the fluttering sound of either feathers or trench coat, Cas is gone again.

_Exit Cas, scene bazillion._

Dean turns to stare at Bobby, hunched over his many books, scribbling on a scrap of paper.

"Did you see that?" he asks with an incredulous tone.

Bobby looks up from the books with an eyebrow.

"Dude just flat out ignored me!"

_"And?"_

"_And _he's been doing it ever since-"

Realization rams Dean as he remembers the hotel room.

"Ever since what?"

"Nothing. Forget it."

Bobby recognizes the figurative wall and curt reply well enough to leave it alone.

Truth be told, it had been hard to forget. Dean hadn't been fully conscious, but when his hunter instincts had kicked in, it was Cas he was grabbing and shoving up against the wall.

He had been angry with the angel...or something along those lines. Dean wonders whether he was angry for the right reason; invasion of personal space, or the fact that Cas had stopped_._

Dean, as usual, ignored what had happened as an instinctual coping mechanism. Maybe this was Cas's way of dealing with whatever had happened that night.

Dean doesn't like it.

He heaves a sigh, knowing what he'll have to say in the car. He's back at the desk, nabbing the list of ingredients before Bobby can say anything else. He turns and jogs out the door.

* * *

><p>They've been in the truck Dean's borrowed for a good ten minutes, gliding down the slippery snow covered hill from Bobby's auto shop. These roads are no place for his baby.<p>

Cas is silently staring out the passenger window, features hidden from Dean.

Dean takes the opportunity to look at Cas while trying to keep his eyes on the road. He's never been one to stare, with the exception of lecherously drooling over pretty women, but staring at Cas is like staring into a black hole.

Dean fixates his gaze on the road and clears his throat.

"So, what?" Dean blurts.

Cas shifts his gaze from the passenger window to the tiny snowflakes assaulting the windshield.

"You just gonna sit there?"

Cas regards Dean's thigh as if it were his face, and gives a slow and deliberate nod that only adds to Dean's growing agitation.

The asshole _had _to be doing this on purpose.

To prevent him from hurting himself, Dean grips the steering wheel with a savage strength. Even if he did punch Cas, he'd only break his hand. He's learned that the hard way one too many times.

_Why the hell am I so mad?_

"Fine. Just sit there. I don't even know why you came along," Dean growls out.

Cas 1, Dean 0.

It was like the Cas _knew_ what he was trying to get at, picked it up, and threw it back in his face without saying a single word.

From the corner of his eye, he can swear he sees a smirk on the damned angel. He swivels his head towards Cas, but the bastard is already looking out his window.

* * *

><p>At a local supermarket, weaving through the isles of customers trying to stock up on canned goods and cheap liquor, Dean's curiosity gets the better of him. He decides to abate his hostility towards Cas.<p>

"Did Bobby tell you what these ingredients are for? Is he performing some kind of ritual or somethin'?" Dean indicates over his shoulder with a flick of the list.

"No."

"Ah. The asshole speaks," Dean quips harshly, which earns him a grunt from Cas. "Ginger, chili powder..." Dean reads half-heartedly. "Well, if it _is _a ritual, it's none I've ever heard of..."

Cas, avoiding two gawking elderly women, moves closer to look over his shoulder at the list.

"A few of the ingredients on this list can be used to summon angels," Cas offers.

"Who's he gonna summon? Are they gonna help with the angel killings?"

"I don't know."

Another dead end.

"So...no word on the culprit."

"No. Do you have everything?" Cas requests shiftily.

"...Yeah." Dean eyes him suspiciously.

Cas moves around Dean towards the end of the isle. They both head to the registers to pay for ingredients.

A pretty blonde is managing one of the registers, and despite mild protests from Cas about the line being longer than the others, Dean scoots right over with a slightly goofy grin. If it makes Cas even a little annoyed, it's the way to go, Dean thinks.

_Payback time._

When they reach her, Dean gives her his award-winning smile. No one can resist. She smiles back, her gaze unwavering. She's confident. Her name tag gives him an excuse to evaluate her cleavage, which isn't bad. Dean wonders how such a pretty girl ended up working here.

"Hey there...Cathy," he greets in a suggestive tone, eyes moving back up to her face.

"Hi," she responds, nonchalantly. She begins to grab the produce and spices out of the basket, eyeing the area to his left and ignoring Dean altogether.

Dean then realizes why his 'technique' isn't working.

_Cas._

He jerks his head towards Cas with a scathing expression, figuring the angel to be doing something socially retarded. Cas, to his complete disbelief and dismay, is smiling at her, a knowing twinkle in his eyes. The hunter looks back at the woman who's simultaneously scanning the items and exchanging promiscuous looks with Cas.

After Dean pays and she's bagged the parcels, she rips the receipt from the machine, pulls out a pen and writes something on the back. When Dean goes to grab the bags, she leans over and hands Cas the receipt and the change.

"Call me," she whispers, fondling his tie. She then caresses his neck and chin with the tips of her fingers, eyes attempting to sex the angel up. Finally figuring that to be too much contact for public comfort, she pulls back. "Next!"

Dean is seething.

_Un-fucking-believable._

He turns from the unpleasant scene with a disdainful look and stomps outside where the snow is blustering in wicked whirls. However freezing, it's not helping to cool him down.

_What the hell did I just see?_

Dean trudges to the truck, opens up the back door and throws the groceries in. He slams the door shut, thankful that the truck is already beat up. As he heads to the driver's door, he spares a glance toward the entrance of the supermarket. Cas is exiting with a content look on his face.

Dean can't deal with that face right now. He can't fathom anyone coming onto or being interested in Cas. He can't imagine Cas with a woman. It's just not possible.

_Castiel? Really? Of all the damn angels._

Dean gets in the driver's seat and switches on the engine, not caring whether Cas is in the truck or not. For all Dean cares, _if he's got time to chat it up with a chick, he can angel-port his angel ass back into the truck._

Which is precisely what Cas does.

"You are upset."

"No," Dean lies. He isn't startled by the sudden appearance this time, and he won't look at Cas. He's too pissed to be startled. It only makes him more pissed that he's pissed. He sure as hell shouldn't be. It's none of _his _business who Cas wants to fuck, after all.

"What is the problem, then?" Cas asks, with melodramatic concern. Dean can almost see the fake furrow of the angel's eyebrows. Cas is a lousy actor. The tone is mocking. Dean clenches his jaws.

"We're not talking about this," Dean states. He refuses to play games with the angel. He pulls out of the parking lot, and heads up the snowy road back to Bobby's.

**I'm wondering how long I can drag this out. Something interesting might happen in the next chapter. :]  
>Reviews are very much appreciated as always!<strong>


	6. Chapter 6

**Yep yep yep! That's right! Another chapter, because I took forever, and because I appreciate le readers! The next one might take long... :'[ I think you'll all go '**_**FINALLY!**_**' with this chapter. X] Anywho, please read and review!**

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><p>The two pull into the auto-yard in the beat up old truck. The swirling snow has lightened to gently falling specks.<p>

Dean turns off the engine and moves to get out of the truck.

"You did not approve of the girl?"

Dean stops and turns to Castiel, a little taken aback. Cas is staring at him now. _Really _staring at him. One of those penetrative gazes. Something he hasn't done for months. They hadn't spoken the whole ride. Why start now?

"What?" he asks, annoyed and confused.

"You did not like her? You seemed friendly enough when you approached her," Cas reiterates, features and expression stern.

Dean shakes his head.

"No, I guess I didn't," he stumbles for words to the question. He gets out of the truck, attempting to avoid the conversation, the parcels in the back seat a perfect excuse. He walks around to the other side of the truck to open the door to retrieve them, but Cas is there, stalk still as always, watching him. The door handle of the vehicle is untouched.

"You would have approved if she were talking to you, correct?" Cas persists.

"Maybe, I don't know." Dean is thoroughly pissed off now, having unsuccessfully avoided the topic. "What the hell does it matter, anyway?"

"That is hypocritical, Dean."

And then that's the last straw.

Dean grabs the angel with both hands by the collar of his trench coat and shoves the shorter man up against the side of the truck. Some snow falls off the top and lands on the shoulders of his beige coat.

"I was jealous, okay?" he shouts in the angel's face, tightening his grip on the coat.

Castiel only narrows his eyes and quirks his head to the side.

"Of what?" he whispers calmly, calculatingly.

"Of you!" Dean shuts his eyes momentarily and loosens his grip, his head lowering of it's own accord. "Of...of her," he admits. "Why the _hell_ have you been acting like this for so long? Coming into my damn dreams to 'talk'? And then in the hotel-!" He looks back up at Cas who's _smiling_. It's not earnest. It's eerie and...there's a glint of the angel's teeth.

"You're _enjoying _this?" Dean growls.

"My vessel reacts in a pleasing way to being near you, Dean. It is confusing, but yes, I do enjoy this."

Dean has to replay the words in his head. He can't believe what he's hearing. Or, thinking back to the events, maybe he can. Still holding Cas by his coat, Dean shifts and is about to let go when Cas gasps. It's short and quick, but audible and unmistakable.

He feels why, right by his thigh. He looks down through the opening of the trench coat to find a tent in the angel's dress pants. His mouth agape, his eyes travel back up to Cas's. Everything around them feels surreal.

Dean sees Cas. He sees the want in the angel's eyes. He can't believe it, but he sees it. And he won't deny that he likes it. Not now.

He forces his knee in between Cas's legs, earning him another gasp from the angel. He drinks in the look of pleasure on the angel's face, puffs of hot air escaping his parted pink lips. His chest is thrumming with adrenaline.

_Shit_.

Dean leans in and places his lips on Cas's, breathing heavily through his nose. The feeling of those lips is incredible. He isn't aware of time or space. He just wants to feel more, so much more of _Cas_.

His hands slide and travel down and under the coat, massaging and feeling the angel. The combined sting of the chilly air and the warmth of Cas's body are intoxicating. Dean forcefully parts Cas's lips with his tongue, plunging into needy heat. Cas moans loudly, wantonly, and it's only too damn appealing to Dean.

When Dean recovers himself, he pulls away, breathing hard and noting his erection straining against his jeans. Cas is also breathing heavily. His appearance looks flustered, but his expression is unreadable.

"What the hell...?" Dean asks himself more than Cas.

Cas, unable to provide an answer, simply moves towards Dean and offers a solution.

"I would like to do that again," he says in gruff voice.

And heaven help him, Dean can't say no to that husky voice or those eyes and lips, all full of desire. Desire for _Dean_. He doesn't want to question it, either. He doesn't know how long he's wanted this, or how long Cas has for that matter. But he knows that he wants Cas _right now._

"Fuck..." he mutters as he smashes their lips together again. His arm comes up under the long coat to encircle Cas's waist and pull him closer. His hand works circles through the fabric of the shirt over Cas's chest and nipples. The _sound s_Cas makes are music to Dean's ears. His hand moves lower and cups the angel's ass.

"Ah...!" Cas breaths, while the hunter's tongue works to lick and probe the angel's mouth. Dean's hand moves around to massage Cas's erection through his pants. "Dean..." he moans.

Dean finally relinquishes Castiel's mouth so he can breathe. He's not so sure Cas even needs to. He unlaces his arms from the angel and takes a step back. Cas's hair is dusted with snowflakes, and Dean remembers that they're outside, possibly in view of Sam and Bobby.

"We...we can't. We can't do this out here," Dean stutters, wiping at his mouth with his coat sleave.

"Then where?" Cas questions impatiently.

Dean looks just behind Cas and at the window of the backseat of the truck. He moves past Cas to open the door and swat away the abandoned groceries.

"Get in," he demands.

Cas complies, turning to position his rear on the seat. Once in, he leans up and grabs Dean by his jacket, pulling the hunter on top of him. Dean barely gets the door shut properly before having his mouth invaded by angel tongue.

Cas is a quick learner.

Cas's hand is around his neck, trying to get as much of Dean's mouth in him as he can. Those blue eyes are on Dean again, assessing him, trying to gauge how much Dean can offer.

Dean, not new to foreplay, smirks at the angel's neediness. Cas is eager and flustered, something he's never seen before. It only makes him want Cas even more.

Dean begins to remove the suit jacket and unbutton the smaller man's shirt, revealing smooth, pale skin. He can't resist running his hands all over Cas's chest and abdomen. Heat radiates from the angel's body as Dean moves his hands to undo the zipper of his dress pants.

Castiel moans again, his hips involuntarily bucking up into Dean's touch.

"Dean, I want...I _need_-" Cas is incoherent, squirming under Dean. His arm hooking around Dean's neck and his hand landing on Dean's shoulder for leverage.

"I know," Dean replies as he sucks on Cas's jaw and neck.

The fly is open, and Dean's hand is sliding under the other's briefs, his impatience matching Castiel's. He grips and strokes the angel's cock in a fast tempo. Cas mewls in satisfaction and his grip on Dean's shoulder tightens.

Dean can't take much more of this, seeing Cas so literally hot and bothered. His own neglected erection is begging for release. He leans on one hand, removing his other from Cas, to unbuckle and unzip his jeans, freeing his own aching cock. He shifts, moving above Cas to align their heat.

"Dean, please..." Cas begs, and _fuck_, his angel looks so beautiful like this, urging and pleading for release.

Dean clutches both, thumb teasing the head of Cas's dick and jerking the two in unison.

He holds himself up above Cas solely to take in the writhing body beneath him and the look on the angel's face as he reaches his climax. It's enough to take him over the edge himself.

Dean devours Cas's mouth as they both spill their seed over his hand and moan loudly into each other, the vibrations alone adding more to the euphoria of the orgasm.

They don't know how long they lay one on top of the other, but it doesn't matter. Dean can feel the tingling sensation all over his body fade. He pushes off of Cas, strangely pleased at the wet feeling beneath him and over Cas, and snags an old rag in the back of the truck to clean up.

He looks down at Cas's peaceful face and leans in to plant a kiss, licking the bruised, swollen lips.

"Dean, that felt..." Castiel was once again at a loss for words.

Dean brushes his thumb over Cas's lips. "I know."

"I only wish we had done that sooner," Cas remarks, with a content sigh.

"Yeah. Me too."

Dean moves to re-bag the groceries on the truck's floor, while Cas sits up in a less revealing position. He struggles to re-button his shirt. Dean shakes his head.

"Wait 'till we get outside. I'll help you with that," Dean offers.

Once outside, Dean buttons the ruffled looking angel's shirt, and helps him with the suit jacket and trench coat. They both look up after he finishes, and their eyes meet.

Dean feels suddenly self-conscious. He had enjoyed what they'd done. So had Cas. But now he wonders what it'll be like between them. What people will think. What Cas is thinking...

With doubt weighing down the experience, Dean sighs and ushers the angel to the house, groceries in hand.

**Gettin' naughty. XD I wonder how I did. This was my first time writing smut or semi-smut, whatever you wanna call it. Please review and give your opinions! They keep me going!**


	7. Chapter 7

**This one **_**sort of**_** wrote itself. When I upload, I usually just write a whole chapter out right before, and then edit the crap out of it. I try to make it as quality as possible though, so it's not just quantity. Still don't have a plan, just settings and circumstances. Please R&R! Hope you enjoy!**

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><p>Dean awakens in the middle of the night from dreamless sleep, his face buried in the warmth of the couch he vaguely recalls relaxing on. He remains still as he collects his thoughts and listens to his surroundings, a habit right after waking up. The wind has picked up against the window.<p>

Dean sits up and rubs his head. Plagued with yet another headache, he turns to the shivering panes of glass to check the level of snow outside.

Though there wasn't a blizzard, it's been consistent and has made a comeback overnight. Only, Dean's too distracted with recent events to wonder if he should start shoveling now or in the morning.

The headache demands morning.

Dean glances at the wall clock across the room, reading 2:32. He gets up and heads to the kitchen for water and aspirin in an attempt to dampen the throbbing in his head.

As he turns to return the inviting spot on the couch, he sees he isn't alone anymore. Cas is standing behind the couch and out the window. Dean sighs.

_Can't catch a break_...

"What is it, Cas?" He shuffles towards and drops back onto the couch.

"I was merely admiring the snow. I have seen it countless times centuries past in all numerous environs. Though it is ephemeral and fleeting, it never ceases to mystify me."

"You sure as hell didn't come down here to talk about sparkly snowflakes."

Dean hears Cas shift to stare at him with what he can picture to be _almost _annoyed frowny brows. He smirks at the image.

"I came to speak with you about what happened in the truck."

The smirk droops.

"What about it?" Dean asks carefully.

Castiel walks around the couch to the empty spot next to Dean when he notices that the angel isn't wearing his trench coat or suit jacket. He's just in his shirt and tie. As Cas sits, Dean curiously eyes the bizarre attire.

"I understand physical attraction...but I don't understand any more than that. I would like to understand more, Dean," Cas declares earnestly. "...And if I am to be honest, I have been trying to invoke a response from you for some time." Cas eyes Dean cautiously, already knowing the response he'd receive.

"Wait, you mean _that's_ the reason you were ignoring me these past few months?" Dean barks as he turns to glare at the angel.

"I apologize. I did not mean to manipulate you, Dean. These feelings...they were troubling me for some time and I did not know if it would be right to ask you about them. I was confused. I still am..." Cas looks away. "If I were to ask you then, would you have answered?" A ruefully triumphant glint is apparent in Cas's eyes as he turns to wait for Dean's reply.

Dean looks down at the tattered rug on the floor. Cas knows him. And if Dean is honest with himself, which he usually isn't, he wouldn't expect himself to be able to answer back then, either.

"You're right. But there are better ways of going about these things," Dean retorts half-heartedly, though he admits to himself that what Cas did to get something out of him worked much too well. The damn angel was clever. Not to mention conniving and sexy as hell...

"I am sorry," Cas repeats.

Dean shakes his head. "Cas...it would've been difficult for me back then, too. I've never done..._this _with a guy, before." He motions between them with his hand. "Maybe I'm a little confused too."

"Then I'm glad I'm not alone pertaining to this." Castiel dons a small smile as he turns to catch Dean with those brilliant blue eyes. The dim light from outside makes them almost glow bright cobalt.

Dean is momentarily mesmerized and, as if by magnetism, leans over the short distance to investigate the hue. His hand hesitantly snakes its way around to cradle Castiel's neck. He's nervous at doing this in the house. He's nervous about this whole goddamn thing, especially when he knows he wants to, and that it can and most likely will lead to more.

He briefly weighs the pros to the cons of doing this with Cas, and comes up short with any sort of con when his lips connect with the angel's. Any anxiety Dean harbored vanishes as he relishes the contact with Cas. His lips have the same crisp taste as before, like tap water spiked with breath mints.

Cas's breathing becomes more strained as Dean begins to suck on the angel's tongue. He smirks as he elicits a gasp from Cas, gently biting down on the tongue. Dean loves every reaction from the smaller, inexperienced man as he creates new ways to surprise and pleasure Cas.

Dean's hand works through Cas's hair as his dexterous fingers work to toggle a button loose on Cas's dress shirt. His hand finds a way through the opening to fondle and tease Cas's nipples. The angel sighs as Dean overtakes his mouth with expertise. Dean continues to work on the sensitive skin underneath Cas's shirt, when Cas suddenly pulls away.

"What is it?" Dean asks when he sees a disgruntled look on the angel's face.

"I do not appreciate being toyed with, Dean."

"What?" Dean blurts, clearly confused.

As Castiel moves to stand, Dean can't help feeling betrayed and annoyed.

So this was it? This friggin' angel was just going to use him as his personal fuck toy? The thought infuriated Dean.

_What a goddamn _hypocrite!

"Oh, that's rich coming from the guy who-" Dean is cut off when he feels a thigh press against his side as Castiel straddles him, pinning him against the couch. Dean looks up at the small, mischievous grin on his angel's face. It would be antagonizing if it weren't so arousing. "Cas, what're you...?"

Hands on either side of Dean's head, Cas leans into the crook of the hunter's neck. In a hushed gravelly voice, "I researched the pizza man," he says simply, monotonously.

Dean grins maniacally into tufts of Castiel's dark hair, but is soon distracted by the angel's mouth on his neck, sucking, biting and mimicking what he had done to Cas earlier.

It was unbelievable. Castiel was like a sponge for sexual knowledge. But Dean knew that wasn't what made Cas so special. There was something else that was indisputable about the angel. Something completely devoted to the Winchesters. Just when doubt began to seize Dean, Cas always came through one way or another. It made Dean appreciate Cas more than just a partner fighting supernatural evil.

Dean is ripped from his reverence when the man atop him finds his mouth again, and Castiel's eyes find his. Cas's eyes bore into Dean as his tongue pries its way into Dean's appreciative mouth. Dean is utterly defenseless to the angel's onslaught. Cas must be adding some of his angel mojo to the mix.

"Cheater," Dean manages when Castiel allows him air.

"It is unclear to me how the concept can be applied to such an activity," Cas murmurs as his nose traces and teases its way down the hunter's neck. Dean can tell he's smiling.

Dean deftly bucks his hips upward into Castiel. He smirks as he feels another gasp against his neck, but is pleasantly surprised when Cas responds immediately by grinding into him.

"_Fuck_, Cas..." he moans, because _shit_, he can't remember the last woman he's been with who's done that, not to mention the amazing feeling of Cas being on top of him.

Dean's hands come up to clutch at the angel's hips as Cas's hand moves to Dean's jeans below. He stops and pulls away from the crook of Dean's neck to regard him with pleading eyes.

Dean basks in the look before nodding. The both of them are enjoying this a little too much, Dean reckons.

Cas wastes no time in unfastening the belt and zipper without so much as a glance that would break his lust-driven gaze with the hunter.

_Fast learner._

Before Castiel's hand can maneuver into Dean's pants, a noise upstairs jolts them from their carnal frenzy. Footsteps quickly but quietly descend the staircase.

Dean's face heats up in panic. He silently laments as he gently guides Cas off of his lap. Judging from the size of the footsteps, Dean surmises that it'd be his gigantawr brother.

Sam's shaggy head of hair pokes into the living room.

"Oh. Hey, you're up," Sam observes as he heads to fridge. He stops mid-stride to stare at Cas, before turning back to eye Dean. "Your fly's undone."

_Crap._

"Oh...uh, yeah. I just went to the bathroom. Didn't think Cas would be out here when I got out. Guess I forgot," Dean strains in the calmest tone he can. It's as half-ass as any lame lie Dean can come up with. Dean glances at a very ruffled looking, blue-eyed angel.

Sam nods slowly with a suspicious frown before turning back to head to the fridge.

He quickly turns to view a frustrated looking Cas. It reminds him of the time in the car. Only this time, they actually followed through. Well...sort of.

"We should get some sleep," he pants, adrenaline and hormones still discernible. Dean absentmindedly wonders if Cas needs to sleep at all. And as quickly as the thought pops into his head, it and Cas are gone. Probably back to the room Bobby made for him.

He heaves a sigh of disappointment and lets his head fall back on the couch as Sam walks back in with a can of ginger ail. "Crap..."

"Upset stomach," Sam gestures, lifting the can. "Where's Cas?" he asks with innocent eyes.

Dean groans, ignoring the question and flopping back into a more comfortable position. He childishly grabs a pillow and places it over his head. Despite the aspirin, his headache is back, and there's no Cas to distract him from it.

He hears a muffled, 'what?' before he ventures for sleep.

* * *

><p><strong>Kukuku...more trollin' Sam. It's not his fault he interrupts... Cas 'n Dean'll get their moment. They always do! XD Please, tell me what you think so far! :D<strong>


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